Combat Boots! and other shorts
by EmmyH
Summary: A bunch of shorts. New chapter!: Something weird's happened, but Daniel doesn't know what...
1. Combat Boots!

It's sort of a drabble.. 152 words, not including this intro thing. My sister and I came up with it at a DSW, at which I was looking for combat boots and couldn't find anything like them...and Amanda found these...um...very _not_ combat boots. Anyway: it's not wonderful, and it's not long, but I was bitten by a plot bunny, and wanted to see what I came up with. So...

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"Major?" 

Sam Carter looked at her superior officer. "Yes, Colonel?" she asked innocently—_too_ innocently.

"What…are you _wearing?_"

She looked down at her body. "Um…BDUs, sir?"

Jack nodded, staring at her feet. "Yes, blue BDUs."

"Um, yes sir."

"But…what's on your _feet?_"

The major looked down at her feet, and lifted one a few inches. "Oh, these," she said happily. They were both looking at her shoes now, which were scarily white and shiny, and must have gone halfway up her thighs. The heels were probably four inches. "These are _combat_ boots, sir!" She grinned happily, put her foot down, and looked at him.

Jack blinked. "Excuse me?" he asked incredulously.

Sam grinned again, and walked away.

Jack woke suddenly, and thought, _what the hell was that?_ He shook his head, unaware that at her house, his second in command was sitting on her floor, staring at some tall, shiny, white shoes.


	2. Humming

Summary: Sam is cold.  
Enjoy!

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I found myself humming. 

It was a song they taught us when I went camping with Cassie and her fellow girl-scouts once. It went like this: "Way up north where there's ice and snow, where the temperature drops to forty below…" And continues by telling the story of Percy the Polar Bear, who gets kidnapped and put in a zoo, and then likes it because he finds the girl of his dreams there. But the first part, I'm sure, is why I was humming it.

It was _cold._

PTR-558 was a veritable ball of ice, and we'd dressed accordingly—but…

It was still cold.

Bone-chilling, nose-numbing, nosehair-freezing _coldcoldcoldcoldcoldcold…_

"Hey, Carter! You cold?"

Colonel Jack O'Neill, that bastard, looked _refreshed._ He was grinning; his nose and cheeks were red, and he was practically bouncing up and down.

Of course, I would never call my CO a bastard, so I just muttered, "Yessir. It's not a problem, sir."

Teal'c didn't look cold at all: probably his symbiote made his temperature skyrocket so he could deal with the cold. He turned to us: "If you are very cold, that is a problem, Major Carter. You could develop hypothermia, which is a life-threatening condition."

Yeah, I remembered. It had happened before. It was a lovely experience: trapped offworld, with my CO dying, and then minutes before the Colonel dies, we're rescued—and then I'm told we weren't even offworld, we were in _Antarctica_ for crissake! In a stupid _crevasse!_

_Okay, Carter,_ I told myself, _calm down. Screaming at your CO will not help your record._ Although I'd really, really like to.

"I'm a little c-cold, too, Jack," said Daniel. "Don't you think we could stop for a while?" Dear Daniel. _When I get __home_, I thought_, I'm going to buy him tons and tons of coffee—literally. I will fill his home with coffee beans. I will use a dump truck, if necessary_.

_Isn't irrationality a sign of hypothermia?_ I thought, but this kind of irrationality is the sort I always have. _Damn, I could have had an excuse to stop, if it really WAS hypothermia. _It would have been a good excuse.

All this thinking happened in a split second. "Where do you propose we stop, Daniel?" asked our traitorous CO. What right does he have to enjoy this horrible, bad, yucky _cold_ weather? None, I thought. None whatsoever. _Traitor._ He continues: "If we stop now, we really will get hypothermia."

Teal'c cut in: "You seem to be enjoying this weather, O'Neill."

"Well, I grew up in Minnesota," the Colonel said defensively. "It got pretty cold in the winter."

We walked in silence for a while, and then Teal'c said suddenly, "There is a cave."

Both Daniel and I looked at the Colonel pleadingly, who shrugged. "Okay," he said, as though he didn't care. _Traitor._

We got into the cave, and started a fire with some driftwood thrown to the back of the cave. "Evidence of people," Daniel said, but didn't elaborate.

"Couldn't we have come here in spring, Daniel?" I asked: after all, it was his stupid ruins that brought us here.

"Yes, except your scans told us that it would be another three Earth years before that happens."

Right.

"I wouldn't've minded," I muttered.

The Colonel was still grinning. "You guys are a bunch of wimps," he said cheerfully.

"Previous action on their parts shows that this is not true, O'Neill," says Teal'c. Dear Teal'c. When we get home I'm going to buy him so many candles, he'll burn the SGC down when he does his meditation. _And if I burn the SGC down, _I thought gleefully, _I won't have to go to cold planets anymore!_

"I'd've thought you'd be better at standing the cold," Colonel O'Neill told me. "After all, you did alright in Antarctica."

Not that he was in any shape to notice.

"I _hate_ the cold," I said vehemently. Everyone looked at me, surprised, and I changed my tone of voice. "I had something I had to do then. But I hated Antarctica."

"Yeah, me too," the Colonel said thoughtfully. "It isn't one of my better memories."

Uh, ditto.

"Anyway, Carter, women can deal with the cold better, right? Because they have more body fat."

Oh, if looks could kill. Daniel laughed. "I think you made her mad, Jack," he said. "Be careful. She's not nearly as much of a wimp as me."

That's right. I taught Daniel hand-to-hand, so he should know.

"Uh, Carter," said the Colonel, "Ya know, I didn't mean that…like it sounded. I mean, really, compared to a lot women, you're…a stick."

Silence.

_Deafening_ silence.

"That is, you're very…healthy. Fit, you know."

Silence.

"Actually, you're so skinny, I'm surprised you're doing as well as you are in the cold. If I had as little fat as you, I'd probably have hypothermia already."

Silence.

Daniel chuckled. "Jack, you're terrible with women."

The colonel turned to Daniel, and hissed, "Well, what do you propose I say?"

Daniel turned to me, and said gallantly, "Sam, would you like me to make you some hot chocolate?"

I grinned: yeah, Daniel knew how to charm a girl. "Yes please," I said happily. Daniel got out two packets of hot chocolate.

"That was quite tactless, O'Neill," said Teal'c.

The Colonel just sighed. "Yeah, well…"

We sat in silence for a few minutes, while our canteen water got hot from the fire.

"Ready," Daniel said, poured the water into our little camping cups, and stirred the cocoa mix into them.

"Don't I get any?" The Colonel asked plaintively.

"No," Daniel said firmly. "And let that be a lesson to you."

I smiled as Daniel handed me my cup, took a scalding sip, and started humming.

Way up north, where there's ice and snow…

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So, how does everyone like it? Please review! (Yeah, it's a boring review request. Deal with it: I can't think of an interesting one right now.)  
I hope you enjoyed it! -Emilie :) 


	3. Curing Cancer

Not actually about curing cancer, or really about cancer at all. It's more of a vague, sleepy, idealistic hope for a better world on O'Neill's part.

Yeah, sounds a little OOC, I know. Just...try it out, willya? ;)

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Team night, and I'm _exhausted._

We're all at my house, and I've had a couple beers. It's late: Daniel's asleep on the couch. Teal'c's gone back to the base, and Carter's staring at her beer bottle, completely absorbed in it. I'm swishing the beer around in the bottom of my second bottle—_swish, swish, swish_—and I realize something.

"We could cure cancer," I murmur.

This wakes Carter up. "What did you say, sir?" she asks.

"We could cure cancer," I reiterate. "Or…AIDS, or…anything!"

Sam frowns in disbelief. "How do you figure that, sir?"

I sigh. "Well, think about it. We've cured all sorts of incurable stuff at the SGC. We kicked mean parasites out of your body, and cured me of nanites that made me prematurely gray—" Carter snorts, and I glare at her— "And we cured Daniel of the sarcophagus, and Teal'c survived that dragonfly disease… Hell, we've all survived death several times. What's a little incurable cancer compared to that?"

Carter blinks, and looks into her beer bottle. "You may be right, sir," is all she'll say.

"Right, of course I'm right. I'm always right," I mutter. "I'm your superior officer, so of course I'm right." I realize I'm rambling, and wonder if it's from the beer or from fatigue. Or a combination of both.

"Well, we have access to some more advanced stuff than most of the people on Earth, Colonel," says Sam. She's still lucid, yessir. I should give her a medal for that.

I firmly shut my eyes, and open them really wide, which serves to keep the world from wobbling for a few seconds. "Wonder if…we could cure…the pizza in the commissary," I mumble.

Carter's smiling strangely. "Sir," she asks, "how long have you been awake?" Because she knows I'm not drunk. I've only had two beers, which isn't enough to make me drunk. I'm not a cheap date.

I glance over at Daniel, the quintessential cheap date, but my Daniel-viewing is interrupted by Carter's voice. "Sir?"

I look at Carter. "Carter?"

"When did you last sleep?" I get the feeling she's asked me something like this, but don't bother to think about it.

"Long time ago," I mutter. "Had about half an hour last night. Got home late, and then Hammond called, but it was a false alarm and then I couldn't go back to sleep…and…before that is…Wednesday night, I guess I got three or four hours."

Carter smiles. "Well, it's a good thing tomorrow's a Saturday," she says. "You'll be able to sleep in."

I snort: sleeping in is not something I'm in the habit of doing.

Sam stands up. "I think I'll be going now, sir," she says. "You should get some sleep."

"Wait 'til the beer wears off," I say quietly, and realize I'm slurring a bit. God, I really am tired.

Carter smiles. "I haven't had any beer in a while, sir," she says, and holds up her current beer bottle. "This is root beer." I see the label: oh, so it is.

Okay. "Well… be careful going home, or…I'll be mad at you, or something."

Carter smiles and nods. "I will. Don't you want to sleep in your bed, Colonel?"

I blink, and have to struggle to get my eyes open again. "Yeah," I mutter, hauling myself up from my armchair, "that'd be good."

Carter's finding her own way out. "Good night, sir," she calls from the doorway, as I make my way to my bedroom.

"G'night, Carter," I mutter, and dream of life.

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So? Whaddaya think? Please review!  
-Emilie 


	4. Dichotomy

A dream _I_ had, believe it or not. Enjoy!

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PQZ-555. 

Odd designation for a planet, but there it was. Seemed like a paradise planet: lots of sunshine, the natives were unusually friendly…

Until they realized I had no 'mate.'

"You must choose!" thundered their leader. All of his subjects followed this with "Choose! Choose! Choose!" Apparently it's a law that all females have to be attatched by their 17th birthday. All of her loyal following have to back off at that time and let her…._choose._

Oooo-kay. I looked over at my three boys.

How could I choose just one?

Well, actually, how could I choose one _period?_ After all, I don't have any reason to be romantically attached to any of them.

A loud "Er-hem" reminds me. _Oh, just choose already! It doesn't matter: it's not like in real life._

"Daniel," I decide abruptly.

"_Daniel?_" Jack asks, incredulous.

"_Me?_" Daniel says. Boy, he's happy.

"Because he can spell 'dichotomy,'" I clarify.

"Wh—But—But I can spell dichotomy!" Jack protests.

Daniel smiles irreverently at Jack. "Fine. How do you spell it?"

"Uh…D…I C…Um..."

"H O T O M Y! I win!" Daniel crows, jumping up and down. "I wo-on, I wo-on, I wo-on, I wo-on…"

"Carter."

I frown: Jack's lips didn't move, but he definitely said my name.

"_Carter! _C'mon, wake up!"

I blink, and realize that I'm in a tent, offworld—and not on PQZ-555, either. "Sorry, sir," I say.

"No problem. What were you dreaming about, anyway?"

I tell him.

The Colonel frowns. "What does 'dichotomy' mean, anyway?"

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So, how'd you like it? Throw tomatoes or roses, but throw me something, please! 


	5. Analogy

Hey, all! Long time no see. This is...shall we say, it makes a brief reference to the Lord of the Rings. And if you've ever _heard of_ LOTR, you'll get the reference. I think. Pretty basic, anyway. Also, this is a drabble (100 words)... to be honest, I had a hard time getting it THAT long. So...enjoy!

-Emilie

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He came down the stairs. "I just had the weirdest dream."

"What?"

"Well…you've read Lord of the Rings, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Teal'c was Frodo. In my dream, I mean."

Sam blinked. "Oh…"

Silence.

"Well, it's not _that_ big a stretch," he said. "I mean, he left his home so he could deliver them from the evil among them, and was nearly destroyed several times in the process."

"So, what, Bra'tac is Bilbo?"

He started to smile, but managed to control his face. "C'mon, Sam, it's _plausible,_ at least…"

She blinked. "No, Daniel. No. It isn't."

He sighed. "Yeah, guess you're right."

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So, how'd you like it? Please leave a review pleasepleaseplease... :) 


	6. Tired

This is _not_ a drabble, as it is 136 words, according to my handy-dandy word counter. But it's pretty darn close.

-----The S word is in this story! Don't read it unless you don't mind reading that word!----

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The thing about friendship, he thought, was that it was a chance to relax. When you were upset, or sick, or just tired, a friend could sling an arm around your shoulders, and if you were really good friends nobody would think anything about it if you let yourself slump, leaning your head against your friend's shoulder, and it would be okay. Everything would be okay.

The thing about working for the military, however, was that it never worked that way. If Daniel leaned his head against Jack's shoulder, he better be _dying._ None of this frigging tired shit. If you relax against a guy, and you _were_ a guy, you were _gay._ Which, of course, was bad. Not that Daniel was gay. And, not that it even _mattered._

Sometimes, he just wanted to relax.

Relax.

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Well? Whaddaya think? Please review! 


	7. Normal, For Once

Hello! This is a drabble. That means it's exactly 100 words long, according to my handy-dandy word counter. Enjoy!

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They went through the Stargate, which was upright. The natives were friendly, they had yummy fruit to eat, and Daniel wasn't allergic to any of it. There was naquadah there, and it hadn't been mined-out-of-the-soil-except-for-minute-quantities, which made Carter happy. Nothing agitated Teal'c's symbiote, and none of the little boys looked enough like Charlie to give Jack bad dreams that night. They agreed on mining rights, in exchange for medical supplies. No natural disasters befell them. They did their jobs, then went home, happy.

In the shower, after an easy post-mission physical, Daniel thought, _why can't all missions be like this?  
_

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Well, didja like it? Please review! 


	8. What Happened

New drabble! Word says it's 100, and the preview-documents thing on says it's 115, but is LYING. It's 100, I COUNTED! WORD BY WORD! Never mind, don't pay any attention to me. But you can read the drabble, if you'd like. :)

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When Daniel got back from his off-world dig, he didn't know what had happened.

All he knew was that Jack glared at him, and then wasn't seen all day. Sam, crying, hugged him, then retreated into her office, only opening the door for strange alien gizmos. And Teal'c was firmly entrenched in the Jell-o display at the commissary.

"What happened?" he asked Hammond, bewildered.

Hammond just patted his arm and led him to his office. "It's better you didn't know," he said, and left, closing the door very carefully behind him.

Daniel sighed. "Another day at Stargate Command," he muttered.

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Please review! :)


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